


six oneshot requests

by civillove



Series: seblaine prompts from tumblr [84]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: as the title suggests, here's six chapters dedicated to the seblaine prompts below (all from tumblr):1. married seblaine + bathing to help with anxiety // 2. Blaine and Sebastian are in a 'secret relationship' (no infidelity, they're just not public yet) // 3. Blaine and Seb don't know each other yet. I don't care what the plot is but I always love fics where Sebastian flirts with Blaine when they're strangers // 4. Blaine is a rising star and as he gains more popularity there's backlash against Sebastian (like maybe the slushie past comes out?) // 5. Blaine making Sebastian cry  // 6. special request for @rhandytaylah who asked about their height difference
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: seblaine prompts from tumblr [84]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/82780
Comments: 15
Kudos: 116





	1. bathing

prompt: married seblaine + bathing to help with anxiety

\--

Blaine sighs as the tub begins to fill with hot water, the liquid a little scalding over the soft flesh of his inner thighs. Honestly though? This is kinda what he feels like he needs after the past few days. He expected that the first few months of being married would be this weird combination of being blindingly happy and frustratingly new but…he wasn’t ready for _this._ Maybe he’s been a bit naïve, he wasn’t worried about spending the rest of his life with Sebastian when so far they’ve done a pretty great job at their relationship. Everyone has their rocky moments but they have managed to surpass theirs with practiced ease.

He thinks it has everything to do with the fact that neither of them thought they’d get to this place in their lives, when they stopped taking it day by day and considering what a future looks like mapped out before them. Blaine’s always been a planner but he’s learned that mastering living in the moment has its benefits. And that concept is perfectly fine unless you’re considering giant adult chess pieces that need to move a certain way and are capable of completely crushing you.

Blaine pinches the bridge of his nose and brings his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead against one of them as the tub continues to fill. He wants to say that he isn’t sure how their conversation got out of control but he knows exactly how it happened: built-up stress shaking both of them like bottles of soda until their tops popped off. He said things he shouldn’t have and Sebastian let that cruel nature they both tend to ignore that he has curl around him like a long-lost friend. It feels completely ridiculous now; his eardrums still ringing from screaming and his fingers still shaking from left-over frayed nerves.

This bath isn’t doing much to help.

Blaine reaches for a bottle of rose-petal bubble bath and squeezes in a quarter sized amount, taking in a deep breath as he listens to the rain begin pelting the window. They’ve been calling for this storm all day and it’s finally here with loud booming thunder and bright-white electricity painting the sky.

He really hopes the power doesn’t go off.

When he hears the door open, he doesn’t move to lift his head. He can sense Sebastian’s presence leaning against the doorframe, watching him, probably running a hand through his hair. He’s cooled off significantly because he knows he wouldn’t approach him again until he was ready. They hover in a comfortable silence until his husband walks into the room and closes the door.

Blaine turns his head a little to watch him, his eyes trailing over the long lines of his body. “Is it still raining buckets out there?”

Sebastian hums and it might be all the response that he’s getting but he’ll take it over some sort of silent treatment. He lets his legs rest flat and reaches over to turn the tap off, cupping water with his hands to put on his face. He scrubs his fingers through his curls, dampening them as Sebastian sits down on the edge of the tub.

He puts his hand in the water and scrunches his nose, “Hot enough for you?”

“I like turning my skin a nice shade of lobster.”

“Well you are definitely halfway there.” Sebastian tuts and grabs a sponge that they keep near the shampoo and dips it into the water. He begins trailing it up and down Blaine’s back and along his shoulder blades.

The shorter lets out a long sigh as his eyes flutter closed, memorizing the touch when his muscles begin to unwind. Another loud boom of thunder nearly shakes the loft and sometimes he thinks about being on a high floor in this apartment complex, how it can feel like he’s that much closer to storms when they explode. Probably a bit ridiculous and he bites down on his tongue, not letting a comment slide about how he’s thought about getting a house.

Because that is not something else they need to fight about right now.

“Think the power will go out?”

“I think we have enough candles if it does,” Sebastian mumbles, dipping the sponge again to rub it against the back of Blaine’s neck, the water trickling and echoing in the small space.

“If that’s a jab about the two-for-one Yankee Candle sale, I was just trying to prep for holiday scents and—”

“And what? A zombie apocalypse?” Sebastian interrupts.

Blaine pouts, “You know I hate storms.”

He chuckles softly, letting the sponge fall back into the water. His wet fingers trail through his curls, scrubbing at his scalp every so often. “I know.”

The shorter looks up at him, suddenly overwhelmed with wanting him so much closer. He knows he gets like this after a fight, sometimes worried with a ridiculous notion that Sebastian will realize that relationships were never right for him. That he was somehow happier single and carefree. A slipping sensation against Blaine’s chest like he’s losing his grip, panic clenched at the bones of his ribcage.

“Get in this tub with me.”

Sebastian licks his lips, his eyes warm but calculating the space, “You know that’s a disaster waiting to happen. We can barely fit in there; my leg fell asleep for a week after the last time.”

He rolls his eyes, “So dramatic.”

“Numb from my knee to my shin.”

Blaine huffs out a small sound, making sure his lower lip is pouting. “Please?”

“You are—” Sebastian shakes his head and thumbs at his lip before he stands, already unbuckling his jeans. “One day I’ll learn how to resist that.”

He smiles up at him, “Doubtful.”

Sebastian removes his clothes, taking his time as Blaine leans up and drains the water just a little so that it doesn’t overflow when his husband gets in the tub. He stands so that Sebastian can sit first and then awkwardly tries to fit himself in the space between his legs.

It works for the most part, even though it’s a tangle of limbs the first few moments, Sebastian hissing when Blaine elbows his inner thigh.

“Sorry.”

“Wouldn’t kill you to accidently put your ass somewhere instead of your elbow.”

Blaine smiles and shakes his head, running a hand through his curls to get them off his forehead. He shimmies back against his husband, a pleasant noise now leaving Sebastian’s throat as his ass presses against his cock.

And while the idea of sex in this tub sounds appealing, if not a little painful, he _really_ doesn’t want to have to explain to the people who live below them about all the water marks that’d appear on their ceiling. He makes a mental note to add that to this list of reasons they should start house hunting.

The quiet settles over them again, Sebastian picking up that sponge and beginning to trail it over Blaine’s biceps and chest, an absentminded motion just to keep his hands busy. He rests his head back against the taller’s shoulder, turning to look out the window even though it’s clouded glass—he can hear the rain come down in earnest.

“I can’t believe we’re that couple that argues about bills.” Sebastian finally says and Blaine can’t help but smile, turning his head back the other way so that his lips brush over the taller’s throat.

“At least we’re not arguing about my ex anymore.”

Sebastian hums, “How _is_ Kurt, anyways?”

Blaine lets out a soft laugh that moves his tummy, the water lapping a little against the rims of the tub. “Stop.”

He squeezes him against his chest, Sebastian’s hand continuously moving with the sponge against his sternum and down to the tops of his thighs. “I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

Blaine shrugs his one shoulder, “Me too. I guess I’m just…worried that I’ll have to give up something I love because I’m not making enough money.”

“I’d never let you do that,” Sebastian says quickly, his hand pausing so he can concentrate on his words. “You were _meant_ for the stage, okay? And you’ll get your big break.”

He swallows, words he wants to say sticking to the inside of his throat and creating a lump. He turns a little so that he can look more clearly at Sebastian’s face, his eyes a little wide as he takes in his handsome features. “You really think that?”

Sebastian lifts one of his hands out of the water and cups his chin, “More than anything.”

Blaine presses their foreheads together and steals a kiss, which is awkward at this angle and he definitely over-stretches a muscle in his neck but it’s completely worth it.

“We’ll figure it out,” His husband promises, his hand still stroking his jawline, “Just like we always do.”

He feels the corners of his mouth tilt up in a smile and he nods because Sebastian is right. They can work through whatever they need to as long as they have one another to depend on. He opens his mouth to say something else but the lights begin flickering with a boom of thunder and then they cut off completely.

The room is submerged in darkness, neither of them moving for a few moments. Blaine makes a soft squeaking noise when lightning fills the sky outside, temporarily bathing the room in white light.

Sebastian lets out a long sigh, “What are the odds of us fooling around in this tub now?”

“You had such grand ideas when the lights were on?”

“Your ass is _literally_ smack up against my dick, I’m not sure who you think I am.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and blindly reaches to unplug the drain. He attempts to rotate and stand but Sebastian grabs his hips and turns him around, a surprised sound leaving his lips as water sloshes over the sides of the tub.

“Sebastian!”

“Oh come on, what’s the difference between doing this here and now and going into the bedroom?”

Blaine laughs softly, his hands falling to the other’s shoulders. “Uh, not flooding the apartment below us, for one. Also less probability of injury. I can’t even _see_ you.”

Sebastian hums and reaches for his hand, guiding it lower and lower until it rests right above his cock. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

He shakes his head, biting his lower lip as heat begins to gather low in his stomach. _Utterly ridiculous_ but he leans forward to kiss him anyways.


	2. secret

Here’s a fic request if you have the time/would like to fill it :) Blaine and Sebastian are in a “secret” relationship (there’s no infidelity - they just aren’t public yet).

Alternate season 3; no slushie incident and Blaine broke up with Kurt the moment that toxicity about being the ‘alpha gay’ came out of his mouth.

\--

Blaine settles down at a table in the Lima Bean with a cup of mocha latte and his satchel, intent on getting a pile of homework done so that he can go home and have an X-Men movie marathon with Sam. It’s still early in the day, right after school ending, so he figures he should be able to crank out most of it if he concentrates.

He pulls out his science text first, running through the chapters their teacher wants them to read. Luckily, most of his work at Dalton has prepared him for public school work. It’s not that he’s not being challenged or anything, he is, but he’s noticed that McKinley is at least a month behind where he left off at Dalton…so catching up with work has been pretty simple. That doesn’t mean he’s not giving it his all though, he still wants to graduate with a 4.2 GPA.

“Thought that was you.”

He looks up and sees Kurt hovering nearby, intent on sitting down at his table. Their relationship hasn’t been the _best_ since they broke up, Blaine still feeling moderate embarrassment as he thinks about the fact that he transferred schools to be with a boy who hurt him so terribly. But he supposes this is what young love gets you. They’re attempting to be friends despite the open wounds between them and it’s not that Blaine hasn’t moved on, he has, he just…doesn’t understand how he _missed_ something so obvious with how Kurt felt about him before diving in headfirst.

“Yep, it’s me.” He leans back into his chair.

Kurt glances down at the one across from him. “Can I…”

Blaine bites down on his lower lip before he nods. It’s not that he doesn’t want a good friendship between the both of them, he does, it’s just…everything feels incredibly _awkward._ “Sure yeah, of course.”

He sits up a little further in his seat as Kurt sits down and gives his attention to his science work. Kurt doesn’t seem keen on starting a conversation, which is good, because he’s not sure what he’d say anyways. It’s been a little tense between them, especially during glee club but…Blaine’s a professional, he’s not about to taint the hard work they’re doing in there and the focus they need for sectionals just because they broke up.

Just because Kurt said some very hurtful things he doesn’t think he’ll be able to apologize for, not really, even when Blaine says its okay.

“So, what do you think about the music choices that Mr. Schue suggested today?”

Blaine glances up and lets out a soft sigh, “I mean, I love eighties rock as much as the next person but…don’t we need something more contemporary?”

“I completely agree,” Kurt gushes, leaning forward a little. Blaine’s pretty sure he’d agree with him on anything at this point. “Or at least give us more musical numbers to try.”

Blaine bites down hard on his tongue, _Because ‘West Side Story’ went over so well?_ He nods, a soft hum leaving his lips and he’s not sure whether he should thank the universe or not but someone else approaches the table.

Tall and legs for days and bright green eyes with a smirk that really never disappears. “Kurt, I _thought_ that was you,” He smiles a little, his gaze ticking between both of them. “I’m getting really good at sensing gays in distress.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Sebastian, you think it’d be hard for you to say something nice for a change?”

“Probably,” He shrugs his shoulder. “I’d rather have a _hard_ time with just about anything else.” And he’s not sure why he didn’t see _that_ innuendo coming.

Kurt bristles like a cat that has water thrown on it, “You’re disgusting. Honestly, doesn’t it ever bother you that you can only make jokes about sex?”

Blaine stares a hole in the table, mostly because he can feel Sebastian staring at _him._ God, he’s never wanted the floor of the Lima Bean to open up before and swallow him. “I dunno, _Blaine,_ do those jokes bother you?”

He feels his cheeks turn bright red, the _dick,_ and snaps out quickly, “Go sit somewhere else.” Why does Sebastian insist on making this difficult for him?

Sebastian sighs, already bored as he looks at the ceiling and turns to walk in the other direction, plopping down into a set of comfy chairs nearby. Blaine watches him go, shaking his head as he rubs the back of his neck before glancing across the table at Kurt.

“Just ignore him.” He mumbles and hopes that’s enough to get them back on track.

He really just wants to get his homework done but the universe already has him in its clutches. His phone vibrates and he doesn’t need to look at it to know who its from. His gaze wanders over to the Warbler, who is innocently sipping on his cappuccino and reading from a novel.

Blaine pulls out his phone, looking into his messages.

**Sebastian Smythe (3:45PM):** Seriously though, wouldn’t mind being hard for another reason. Your lips are a good one.

Blaine nearly spits out his coffee, coughing into his arm. Kurt gently reaches across the table, squeezing his wrist. “Easy,” He laughs softly and all Blaine can do is try and right himself, the blush hot on his cheeks.

Sebastian is smirking in the corner of his eye.

**Sebastian Smythe (3:46PM):** There’s something oddly satisfying about Kurt sitting across from you and having no clue that we’re together.

Blaine instantly texts back at that notification, smiling softly at Kurt when his friend returns to his work.

**Blaine Anderson (3:46PM):** Don’t be unkind.

Sebastian rolls his eyes when he reads the message and puts his phone down, putting Blaine under a false sense of hope that he’ll leave it at that but he gets another message five minutes later. So much for getting any work done—maybe he can multi-task between movies with Sam.

**Sebastian Smythe (3:51PM):** I bet you a blowjob that Kurt attempts to get back together with you before he leaves this café.

**Sebastian Smythe (3:51PM):** I’m quite the motivator.

Blaine’s eyebrows pinch together because _no,_ that’s not going to happen but then Kurt’s gently nudging his ankle under the table and he bites his tongue because it seems like Sebastian really does have some sort of ‘gay in distress’ radar.

“I’ve been thinking about, you know, us,” Kurt says after a moment, tapping his pen against his notebook. “And I miss you. I miss how we felt,” and what he really means is _I miss how you made me feel. “_ Can’t we talk about this?”

Blaine clears his throat and leans his elbows onto the table, trying to figure out a way to phrase this because…even if he _wasn’t_ dating Sebastian, he’s not sure he’d be able to just get back together with Kurt after what happened.

“Kurt,” He says carefully, “There’s…nothing to talk about. I want to be friends but I think that’s all we can be. Okay?”

He sees the moment that Kurt physically deflates and even though he’s nodding, Blaine can tell that he’s hurt him and severely lowered his expectations. He wants to say something else even though he’s not sure what, Kurt packing up his things with the intention of leaving the Lima Bean.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiles tightly and Blaine opens his mouth to what…apologize? He’s not sure. But eventually it’s too late because he’s already out the door.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, the chair beside him pulling out as another male sits down.

“I’d say I told you so but…” Sebastian tuts, “Took him forever to leave.”

Blaine pulls his hand back to look at him. “I know I was the one who came up with this whole…secret relationship thing, but do you have to throw it in my face everytime we’re together?”

Sebastian hums and leans forward, capturing a kiss that’s slow and a little bit dirty. “Oh I _like_ the secrecy, adds a whole other reason for that pretty pink blush to be on your cheeks.”

Blaine shakes his head, a soft smile tugging the corners of his mouth. He knows he’s probably asking a lot, especially for Sebastian to be such a good sport about it but…he’s just, not ready for people to know he’s dating again. Not only that but he’s dating _Sebastian,_ someone who isn’t as kind or welcoming as he should be, someone who’s on another team that’s still so close to his heart.

He doesn’t want to give the New Directions or his friends a reason to doubt him.

Sebastian sighs and leans forward on the table, another kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth and the bridge of his nose before he pulls away. Because despite what everyone thinks they know about him, Blaine sees something _real_ underneath the mask. That his boyfriend can be soft and warm and that he cares about him, even though an outward appearance would suggest otherwise.

“How bout this, because I’m nice, you can make the blowjob up to me at a later time and date. When you’re less pouty.”

A laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head, reaching for Sebastian’s hand under the table and holding it. The taller laces their fingers together as he says, “Oh wow, that’s super thoughtful of you.”

“I know,” He shakes his head, “You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Definitely could do that later.” Blaine hums, pretending to give his attention back to his work.

Sebastian grins, “Cheeky,” And lifts his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.

If Kurt just so happens to wander back into the Lima Bean to get a refill before leaving and sees them, well, he doesn’t say anything.


	3. banana daiquiri

also could you do one where blaine and seb don’t know each other yet? i don’t care what the plot is but i always love fics where sebastian flirts with blaine when they’re strangers + (also a little help from this [otp prompt](https://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/181577771751/person-a-staring-very-intensely-at-bs-chest) that I found and man I wish this blog hadn’t stopped updating bc gold)

\--

This is one of the last things Blaine thought he’d be doing but money is tight, especially with no exciting Broadway offers, and really it could be _worse._ He likes working at a hotel, Sam ended up getting the job with him since they’re both trying to keep their apartments afloat, so there’s never a dull moment.

He thinks he just enjoys talking to so many different people, especially at this Brooklyn hotel because he tends to meet tourists. People who come in from all over in different walks of life just to enjoy the city and what it has to offer. It makes the state of his reality a little less daunting.

His manager told him that he’s got a bright smile and a well-meaning personality, that a lot of customers have given him compliments and at least he’s doing this job well despite not always wanting to be here. So he’s moved to the rooftop bar, sometimes tending a few people who lay by the pool.

It’s nice because he gets to enjoy the warm weather instead of the freezing air conditioning of the lobby, he can wear shorts and comfortable sneakers to move about the concrete space and he gets better tips than before when he was shuffling bags between check-in and the elevators. He serves drinks and apps and sometimes dips into the pool when the roof is dead.

Unfortunately for him, today is not one of those days.

It’s not as busy as some shifts are but he’s got multiple customers that are consistently needy, whether it’s wanting menus, drinks, more ice, fixing the shade of their umbrella, asking him questions, _whatever,_ Blaine suddenly feels like a yo-yo. He’s bouncing between the bar and across the concrete so fast he has to remember to pause and drink some water every so often.

He’s only got an hour until his break, so, he can push through.

Approaching someone who’s just picked a lounge chair and sat down, Blaine pauses as he takes his shirt off. _Oh._ Wrong move because now he’s utterly distracted and he nearly walks into the pool. He’s handsome, easily so, with tan kissed skin and long lines. He’s not exactly lanky but he’s tall and has beauty marks littering his skin, a pair of green swim trunks bringing out the color of his eyes right before he puts sunglasses on.

It makes him feel frumpy in this all white uniform he has to wear. He clears his throat and offers him a small smile as he stands in front of him, “Hi, I’m Blaine. Can I get you anything?”

The man purses his lips and he can tell his eyes are ticking over his form because his head follows a little, up and down his body, “Blaine,” He likes the way it sounds coming out of his mouth. “What kind of wine do you suggest?”

“Well we have a few crisp whites available right now, nothing too heavy because it’s so hot out. They’re refreshing, just depends on whether you like notes of citrus or if you’re more floral.”

He hums and takes out his credit card, “Pick one. I’ll also have a banana daiquiri.”

Blaine nods and takes his card, turning to walk back towards the bar. There’s little relief under the shaded area, fans above moving hot air around. He takes a few ice cubes out of the cooler and runs them over the back of his neck as he puts in the order and swipes the card. He looks down at the name ‘Sebastian Smythe’ staring back up at him in a uniform font.

He glances up as he begins making his drinks. Sebastian moves from his lounge chair to dip into the one end of the pool, dunking his shoulders underneath the water. He is _not_ going to stare because that would be weird and he tries to convince himself that it’s fucking hot out and it’s doing something to his libido—not only that but he wishes he could just relax on this nice roof instead of serve drinks.

Blaine puts the glass of wine on a tray along with the banana daiquiri, adding a tumbler of water and ice as well before he picks it up to carry it to him. He sets it down on a table nearby as Sebastian climbs out of the pool, approaching him to grab his wallet again so he can pull out a tip.

At least there’s that.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” He says by way of thanks and puts the money into his pocket.

“There is something.” Sebastian says quickly, picking up the banana drink and handing it to him.

Blaine raises an eyebrow because…did he do something wrong? Maybe he got the flavor mixed up, he could have swore he said banana. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s for you.”

He blinks, his brain restarting in the heat because. “Oh, uh,” He looks down at the drink and can’t even think about what to say. “I can’t drink while I’m working.”

Sebastian hums but this doesn’t seem to faze him, picking up the glass of wine. He clinks their glasses, “Come on, one sip won’t kill you.”

Blaine sighs and glances around the pool area, no one is watching him and really it _is_ just one sip. So he takes one, the icy alcohol sliding down his throat in a pleasant sensation. He’d give anything to be done with work, to sit by the poolside with this handsome stranger and finish his drink.

“Thank you, I really have to be going now though.” He sets the drink down on the tray and Sebastian is…he’s staring at his shirt.

Blaine looks down quickly, he’s going to be _really_ upset with himself if he’s managed to get a yellow stain on the front of him just from one spontaneous sip of daquiri. “What?”

“Your shirt,” The taller says simply, letting his lips rest against his wine glass.

He pulls it away from his body for a moment, frowning, “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s still on you.” Sebastian says, like he’s talking about the weather and Blaine nearly swallows his tongue because _who does that?_

A laugh suddenly crawls up his throat and he shakes his head, fixing the taller with a look, “Does that actually work on anyone?”

“The blush on your face and neck is telling me yes.”

_Damnit._ “Well that’s…I’m hot, it’s hot out.” He says quickly, back peddling before Sebastian can make something out of that comment too. “I gotta go back to work. Thanks.” Though he’s not quite sure what he’s thanking him for.

“When do you get off?” Sebastian presses, taking a step forward when Blaine takes one back. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just have to keep ordering banana daiquiris when they melt.”

He smiles a little, always a bit flustered with flattery. “I’m…how do you even know I like those?”

Sebastian smirks, takes his sunglasses off so those green eyes can meet hazel ones. “Am I wrong?”

Man, he wishes he could tell him _yes._ Instead, he offers an eyeroll but considers the original question. “I’m off at three.”

“Then I’ll order you another one at 2:55 and you’ll join me?”

He’s surprised that the question is so open, given the confidence of earlier conversations. And yet…he doesn’t want to say no, so he supposes he should give him that. “Sure, yeah just…stop wasting bananas.” He motions to the drink on his tray, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

Sebastian laughs, the sound light and refreshing, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


	4. fame

Hello, I love your work!! :) if you're feeling up to it I like to submit a post canon prompt in which Blaine is a rising star and as he gains more popularity there's backlash against Sebastian (like maybe the slushie past comes out?)

\--

Blaine remembers Cooper once describing fame as a shaken can of soda, only a matter of time until it explodes. Now he takes this conversation with a grain of salt because it’s _Cooper_ and this is the same person who tells him his singing numbers are a little pitchy and that he needs to point more when he wants to show emotion or direction. But he has to give his brother a little credit because he is quite popular in his own circles; he’s got a ton of commercials that eventually give way to B-side horror movies and a bad rom com.

He never expects it to happen to himself or maybe he just never expects to reach for something so beyond himself and _get it,_ to capture it so easily with his own hands.

Blaine reaches for Broadway and he snatches it out of the sky like he can unhang the moon. One show leads to another and then another and he pictures that shaken can of soda Cooper described as his life erupts into different versions he never saw coming. It takes a while, a lot of hard work, tears, and stress but he manages to do everything he’s always wanted. Theater shows morph into an agent of Cooper’s reaching out to him and suddenly he’s got his hands in a few films.

It’s like his popularity detonates overnight—his social media accounts buzzing consistently with follows and re-tweets and DMs. He eventually has to switch a few things off but the bustle is _exciting._ If it’s any indication, it’s a sign he’s moving in the right direction, that he’s finally making waves that don’t completely threaten to drown him.

It all feels a little surreal, even after something as mundane to him as finishing up another show.

Blaine sighs as he sits at the vanity in his dressing room, quickly removing a light sheen of makeup and sweat from tonight’s performance. There’s a knock on his door but he already knows who it is, smiling a little as Sebastian steps inside with a dozen of roses.

“Am I too late? Has your fan club already delivered your daily truck of flowers?”

He laughs softly and shakes his head, drying his face before applying a penny sized amount of lotion. “You’re being ridiculous.” He stands and approaches him, taking the roses as he stands up on his toes and presses a kiss to his lips. “These are the flowers I’m really after.”

Sebastian hums, wrapping his arms around his waist. “You were incredible tonight.”

A soft blush stains his cheeks and works down his neck. For some reason, even after all this time of Sebastian saying it, he never seems to get used to it. “Thank you. You weren’t bored? Isn’t this…like your fifth time seeing me?”

Sebastian shrugs, letting Blaine go so he can finish getting ready to leave. He pulls a shirt over his head, a simple t-shirt paired with a blue jean jacket. “You manage to make every rendition just a little different.”

Blaine smiles and grabs his bag, putting it over his shoulder. “Gotta keep it interesting.” His hand easily falls into Sebastian’s before he grabs his bundle of flowers, leaving the rest in his dressing room to get later.

He considers going out the back but he knows there’s people waiting for him in the front, just like the last few nights. He’s still not used to it, working down what feels like an assembly line, signing playbills, posters or whatever else people have for him.

Sebastian senses his hesitation, pausing a moment to lift his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “You can skip it tonight.”

“I can’t do that,” Blaine says instantly. “Some of those people have been waiting for hours.”

He shrugs his one shoulder, “Then they’ll do it again some other night. You’re exhausted.”

Blaine smiles loosely and leans into his chest, the roses almost getting in the way as he pushes up and kisses him, just because it always seems to ground him when he needs it the most. He knows what it feels like to wait outside of a Broadway show to get a glimpse of a performer he admires, to keep his ground even when it’s raining or cold or when people start pushing you from behind.

He’s not about to crush potential fans. He can’t do that and Sebastian knows it.

The taller rolls his eyes and presses a long kiss to his forehead. “They better not ruin my chances at getting dinner to go at that Thai place near our apartment.”

Blaine smirks and starts walking towards the front doors of the theater, security on his tail to keep everything as orderly as possible. “It’ll be a half an hour, forty-five minutes tops.”

He takes a deep breath and lets one of the security guards, Rick, push the door open for him. There’s instantly a clamor of voices and yells and flashes of cameras. Someone is definitely crying to his left when they see him, smack up against the metal dividers put in place by the theater.

Blaine tends to gravitate towards the overemotional fans first, bright smiles and calming words as he grabs playbills to sign. He realizes he needs both hands, turning towards Sebastian to hand him the roses with a gentle kiss to his cheek. There’s a _lot_ of noise this time but he’s not sure why, a sense of clamoring and…he wonders if it has anything to do with his boyfriend. Sebastian doesn’t usually stand behind the line with him as he meets fans, signs autographs and poses for pictures, but he’s here tonight.

Often he leaves out the backdoor or when he goes through the front he makes a beeline for the car that’s waiting for Blaine. This time though he’s in the mix of it, watching as Blaine moves down the line of people.

Rick is two steps ahead of him, letting the fans know that they have to keep doing this in a calm and orderly manner or he’ll pull Blaine for the night. And while he hates disappointing people, he knows its for his own safety. He can only pause for so long for each person or he’ll be here all night. He multi-tasks a lot, answering questions and posing for pictures as his sharpie moves across the glossy covers of the playbill.

Most of the time he really enjoys this, working through fans that have clearly enjoyed his past and present performances. But other times it reminds him that the line between popularity and privacy is consistently blurring. People ask him about his past relationship with Kurt or if he’s ever had a crush on his best friends—Jake and Sam. And while he’s usually able to laugh those off and give witty responses, something he’s had to practice, sometimes questions about Sebastian dig at nerves inside of him.

They ask things about his past, often things that are incredibly unkind and _none of their business_ right to his face. Blaine ignores those as much as he can because he knows it’s mostly about jealousy, that it has to be, that hate breeds from being _too_ much of a fan and not knowing where that line rests. A lot of people think that they’re looking out for him, people he’s never met somehow ‘knowing what’s best’—but his relationship with Sebastian has been through a lot of shit without people trying to drudge up their worst moments.

He gets towards the end of the line and Sebastian takes a few steps to follow him. He thinks he’s about to lean forward and say in his ear that he’s going to get in the car when something white and red catches the corner of Blaine’s eyesight.

And it’s too late, even for Rick who’s two steps in front of him.

Blaine’s not sure how it happens but Sebastian grabs hold of his elbow, hard, and _yanks._ It takes him a minute to realize that he’s pulling him out of the way as something red sails through the air and suddenly all of his high school memories are assaulting him.

It’s a red slushie from a big gulp cup and a fan has _thrown_ it in Blaine’s direction, though, he’s not sure if he’s actually the target or whether they were upset about seeing Sebastian. Either way, he gets this weird sense of déjà vu because he recalls jumping in front of Kurt so long ago, the sting of red dye and rock salt, and now Sebastian is doing the same thing. He steps forward so that he gets the brunt of it, slushie coating the front of him and ruining the bundle of roses.

Rick motions both of them so fast back into the theater that it’s a whirl of color and sound and Blaine drops his bag as they walk into a safe space because—

“Seb are you okay? Wait let me see, did they get your face?”

Sebastian is _swearing_ and throwing roses down onto the ground but he seems fine otherwise, the slushie not holding any cruel surprises like the one in high school did. He attempts to tip his chin but his boyfriend pushes him away, stalking towards the bathroom to clean himself up.

He sighs and runs a hand over his face, looking down at the ruined roses before he glances up at Rick. “I just…need to clean him up and—”

“Don’t worry about it Mr. Anderson, we’ll clear the sidewalk. Car’s ready when you are.”

Blaine nods quickly before walking towards the bathroom where Sebastian is.

\--

He watches as his boyfriend wipes his face over and over, looking down at his ruined shirt with disgust and barely managed contempt. He wants to say something but he’s not sure _what—_ there’s a fine line between something that will help and words that will piss him off even more.

Blaine runs a tired hand over his face, a headache beginning to pinch behind his eyes. “I think I have a sweatshirt you can wear in my dressing room.”

Sebastian gently catches his wrist before he can leave, “Forget it. We’re going home anyways.”

He swallows thickly at the sound of his voice, pinched and frustrated. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

Sebastian turns off the sink and throws away a few paper towels, shaking his head as he moves to run his hands down Blaine’s arms. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault. Okay?” He nods softly even though his lower lip wobbles; he’s tired and frazzled and his emotions are beginning to build up like a wave inside of him, threatening to overpower.

“Shh,” Sebastian says gently and runs his thumb over his lower lip before taking both of his hands into his. “I expected something like this to happen eventually. You think I haven’t noticed some of the comments on our pictures? The blatant ‘klaine’ tagging?” He rolls his eyes, “It doesn’t fucking bother me because Kurt or any of these other people get to wake up to you every morning.”

Blaine sniffles, squeezing his hands as he looks down, their fingers lacing effortlessly. “I just wish they wouldn’t hold your past against you. That’s not who you are anymore. And they hurt _me_ when they do stuff like this.”

“That’ll happen,” He mumbles, “People do stupid shit and don’t realize they’re going to hurt someone that means so much to them.”

And Blaine knows he means the fans but there’s also something in his voice that lends to the idea that he’s _also_ talking about himself and what happened in high school. When he threw that slushie and meant to hit Kurt but ended up hurting Blaine instead.

He sighs softly and presses himself up on his toes to kiss Sebastian’s forehead, “Let’s go home.” He whispers and they do just that, the street blissfully empty when they leave the theater again.

\--

Blaine purposely doesn’t scroll through his own tag as Sebastian finishes up in the shower, knowing someone probably got pictures or a video of the slushie incident. But he does think of something he wants to post, the idea twirling in his mind as his boyfriend eventually settles on the couch with him.

They finish eating dinner and Blaine settles between Sebastian’s legs, leaning against the corner of the couch. He turns his head to kiss him, snapping a purposeful photo that he uploads on Instagram with the caption: ‘To the person who threw that slushie, someone who thinks they can call themselves a ‘fan’, leave your hate at home. #seblaine’.

His boyfriend squeezes him around his waist, kissing his shoulders as he watches him post it. “Always did like you a little feisty.”

He puts his phone aside, turning to rest more comfortably against Sebastian’s chest. “Well, if anyone knows me by now, I like making waves. Especially with the person I love.”

Sebastian smirks and peppers kisses into his curls and they both end up falling asleep on the couch.


	5. accident

as a response to your last fic, could we get a drabble of blaine making sebastian cry? i feel like we don't see sebastian wear his heart on his sleeve too much so something like that would be major (the fic they are referring to is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561661))

\--

Sebastian knows that it’s sometimes dangerous to become complacent, to get caught up in how fast life goes that you can forget the things _in_ it that make it so worth living. He thinks after a moment like this, that’ll never happen again.

His hands are shaking as he paces in the waiting room of a hospital, the white tile and gray carpet starting to get on his frayed nerves. He doesn’t understand why no one will _tell_ him anything, especially since they’re the ones who called him here in the first place. A few nurses at a desk who know jack _shit_ about what’s happened to his husband even though they’ve pulled him from work with a single sentence, “You are Blaine Anderson’s emergency contact”.

He doesn’t hear anything else, the entire world becoming a dull roar of an ocean wave in his ears as he makes it to the hospital on auto-pilot. He’s managed to piece together that he was in a car crash, that the framework is totaled, that Blaine is in surgery but there’s literally _nothing else_ anyone can offer him.

He screams at nurses, which he regrets and attempts to apologize for but the words are thick and sticky against the inside of his throat. They call security and he almost gets thrown out until a random doctor calms him down in the hallway.

They say they understand but do they really? Sebastian figures he’s not the first one to be wound up about a loved one, to be terrified when no one will tell him anything about where Blaine is or what’s happened to him. He finds himself completely sick to his stomach and he can’t _breathe_ until another nurse helps him through what has to be a panic attack.

This is how they leave him, in the waiting room, not being able to stop pacing. He’s significantly calmer, if that even makes sense with how upset he still is, but at least he’s not yelling at anyone anymore. He calls Cooper, which helps for some reason, even though sometimes Blaine’s brother is crazier than a bag of cats.

It’s not like he can come wait with him because he’s all the way in L.A. but hearing his voice in his ear, someone who loves Blaine as much as he does, offers comfort he didn’t realize he needed so desperately.

It’s hours, it has to be hours that he’s been there, his leg jack-hammering in place when he manages to sit. Sebastian thinks about the last time he saw him, even though that causes a painful vice-like-grip around his throat. Blaine isn’t _dead_ for fuck’s sake; he can’t think like this—even though he’s running through the events of that morning like a broken record. At least he’s not blaming himself, there’s no way this can possibly be his fault.

They woke up late and stayed in bed too long, Blaine made French toast, they fooled around in the shower which certainly didn’t help out with the time problem and he remembers kissing him before walking out the front door. Always kissing him, always hands in his curls, always pulling him flush against his body just because he can.

He remembers the exact way Blaine smiled against his lips, the scent of his skin, the warmth and solidness of his body and—

Sebastian stands suddenly, running a hand through his hair so haphazardly that he nearly pulls at the strands. _No,_ he needs to stop thinking like this. He’s going to drive himself fucking crazy.

“Mr. Anderson-Smythe?”

He turns quickly as a doctor pokes his head around the corner of the waiting room, motioning for him to come into the hallway. He manages it on wobbly knees, wondering how long he’s been in one place; is it late? Is it early? He can’t recall the last time he’s eaten or drank anything.

“Your husband was in a car crash—”

“Is he okay?” He bites out because that’s the only question that matters. Anything else can follow after it.

The doctor holds his gaze before he nods softly, “He’s out of surgery and very lucky. If the car would have hit on the driver’s side…” He trails off, letting Sebastian’s imagination run fucking wild. “He’s got a lot of contusions, a broken arm and a few bruised ribs from the airbag. He needs to take it easy, get lots of rest. We should be able to release him tomorrow.”

“Can I see him?” He’s still on autopilot, that relief he so desperately seeks because Blaine’s _okay_ not quite reaching him yet.

The doctor touches his shoulder, “Come back tomorrow morning. He’s still heavily sedated, he won’t wake up until then.” He offers a small smile before leaving his side.

And Sebastian doesn’t even think about going home because his home is _here_ in a hospital bed. He’s not going anywhere.

\--

He sleeps in the most uncomfortable positions in the waiting room but it’s worth it, one of the nurses that he’s yelled at bringing him a cup of coffee when morning comes around. He can literally hear Blaine in his ear telling him to apologize and it’s the only reason he does, trying to offer a soft smile around a sip from his cup.

She tells him what room number Blaine’s in and that he’s awake, that he can see him, and Sebastian nearly spills his coffee everywhere as he gets up and speed-walks in that direction. He turns the corner down the hallway, pausing outside of Blaine’s room that’s blissfully not being shared with anyone.

He’s leaning back in bed, propped up with pillows and he’s got a cast on his arm, an IV in the other, there’s bruises along his neck and the one side of his face and a cut on his forehead and the sight nearly knocks Sebastian right to his knees. He squeezes his eyes shut, suddenly dizzy, taking a moment before he walks inside. He lets out a slow breath and when he makes sure he’s not going to fall over; he goes inside his room.

Blaine’s dozing against the pillow, a re-run of _Criminal Minds_ playing on the TV as Sebastian puts his cup of coffee down on the nightstand. His gaze runs over his body, a little bit broken in front of him but the fact that this could have been so much worse hits him like a ton of bricks. The room is filled with flowers, friends and family being told most likely by Cooper about Blaine’s accident and suddenly Sebastian feels stupid because he doesn’t have anything.

Just a cup of cooling coffee and a wedding ring as he sits down beside him. He gently takes Blaine’s hand and holds it up to his face, squeezing his eyes so tight at the warmth of his skin. That relief that he’s been waiting for finally washes over him, pinching his eyes with tears and he feels his face contort even though he tries to stop it.

Blaine lets out a soft sigh, turning his head a little to face him, his thumb moving against Sebastian’s wet cheek and catching a few tears. “Are you crying?” He asks, voice a little amused and tired but _alive._

“No,” He sniffles and shakes his head, can’t quite meet his eyes as he pulls Blaine’s hand away from his face. “Allergies. You practically have an entire floral shop in here, Anderson.”

“Ah,” Blaine smirks gently even though the action must hurt. “Right, of course. I got lots of friends, what can I say?”

“That’s because you’ll befriend anyone who talks to you longer than three minutes.” He mumbles, attempting to stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks but he can’t. They’re hot and wet and emotion is flowing from him like a faucet, a tight ball of nerves sitting at the base of his chest.

“Hey,” Blaine says, wanting his attention and eventually green eyes meet warm hazel. “It’s okay.” He whispers, “I’m okay.” And this is so ridiculous because _Blaine’s_ the one in a hospital bed and he’s comforting him? For fucks sake.

Sebastian stands from his chair, moving to hover over Blaine’s body and presses a series of gentle kisses against his forehead, nose, and lips. “You _never_ scare me like that again. Understand?”

Blaine smiles gently and nods, tilting his chin so that their noses rub together in an eskimo kiss. “I understand.” He whispers, even though they both know that’s something he can’t promise. “I love you. Even though you’re wearing the same clothes from the day before and have coffee breath.”

Sebastian sighs and wipes his face, sitting back down in his chair, holding onto one of Blaine’s hands in-between both of his own. “Pain in my ass.” He mumbles, the words practically a translation of _I love you, too._

“You should go home,” Blaine mumbles, “They’re letting me go in the afternoon and I’m,” He shifts a little in bed, squeezing Sebastian’s hand. “Dozing in and out of sleep anyways.” His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he settles.

Sebastian licks his lips, glancing at the TV before he runs his thumb along Blaine’s hand. “Yeah, maybe. Just sleep, okay?” His husband hums and he presses a few other kisses on his knuckles, grabbing the cup of coffee he’s left behind on the nightstand.

Despite offering those words up to Blaine, he has no intention of leaving this room until they can go home together.


	6. height difference

special request for @rhandytaylah on tumblr who asked about their height difference (if you want a longer fic, check out [this one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2607695))

\--

It’s not like Sebastian is freakishly tall or anything, he’d say he’s a pretty average height when it comes to men. Or maybe it’s just easier for him to brag about it because he’s six feet. It’s been consistently difficult to find men he was interested in that were taller or at least his exact same height, so he’s resigned to the fact that anyone he’s into is going to be shorter than him.

Blaine is five-eight but he’s got the attitude that carries him to at _least_ six feet. Which seems absolutely ridiculous but Sebastian’s witnessed this firsthand when he gets wound up. He’s not much of a fighter or anything, scrunching his nose at violence but he’s wildly protective over his friends, family and animals (yes, this includes the sky rats of New York that Sebastian turns his nose up at when he catches his boyfriend feeding pigeons in Central Park).

Sebastian’s never thought about it for long, but when he does, he realizes that he likes that Blaine is shorter—compact and solid against him. He’s not that much taller but because of their slight height difference, Blaine fits right against his chest, his head directly underneath his chin.

And he fucking loves it.

It’s not something he usually notices unless he pays attention but there are a few things that tend to stand out and he’s not talking about moments where Blaine can’t reach a mug from the top shelf of their cabinets.

\--

When Blaine’s tired, he does one of two things. He either completely ignores him and goes quiet, making a beeline for their bedroom where he strips until he’s in a t-shirt and briefs and crawls into bed. He’ll fall asleep quickly and heavily, not even moving when Sebastian comes in later to pull the sheets back and get into bed himself.

Usually though, he ends up doing option two, which includes him finding Sebastian and laying on him. It doesn’t matter whether he’s in bed already or on the couch, he’ll wander right in the middle of whatever he’s doing and stretch out.

He’s like a pint-sized cat or something, getting right in-between the show Sebastian’s watching, the book he’s reading or the notes he’s taking for his internship and lays down. Sebastian makes a big deal of rolling his eyes or making sounds even though they both know it doesn’t bother him…otherwise he wouldn’t let him do it. He enjoys when Blaine’s like that, just needing the warmth of his body to fall asleep after a long day.

And it’s one of those things where Sebastian can see him coming a mile away when he’s on the couch, moving on autopilot as Blaine wanders in from the bedroom. He’s lucky that they’re both not tall because this couch thing wouldn’t work, the furniture _just_ big enough to accommodate their lacing of limbs.

Sebastian stretches out and puts a pillow behind his back as he leans against the arm of the couch and Blaine lays down between his legs, fitting perfectly along his chest. His head tucks under his chin as he wraps his arms around him, holding him into place.

“You’re lucky you’re short.” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s forehead who’s already half asleep.

“You’re the one who’s tall,” Blaine yawns, poking his side. “I’m a normal size.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and lets him sleep, giving his attention back to the TV as he fingers through the mess of curls on his boyfriend’s forehead.

\--

Sebastian’s a tactile person, he says so much more through touch than getting his words to work. It’s something that’s always felt kind of ironic seeing as how he’s so good at arguing, a sharp tongue and ready retort sitting behind his teeth. He’s good with anger and irritation and frustration, knows how to talk himself out of paper bag. As for touch? He’s been able to trust his hands to manipulate, to fold people like warm clay between his fingertips.

Touching Blaine has always been so easy—a strong hand on his lower back to guide him through a crowd, lacing his fingers through his when they walk on a street towards a coffee shop, pressure on his hips as they back up while kissing through a bedroom door. Second-nature, specific contact with Blaine’s body that make him happy, laugh or make sounds that sit with him long after the sweat dries.

But for some reason when it comes to emotions where Blaine needs comforted, well, it’s like his brain shuts off. Sometimes he doesn’t know what to do, even with capable hands. This is where things like their height difference comes to be useful because Blaine fits so _perfectly_ against him—like a lost puzzle piece finding where it fits.

Even if he doesn’t always know how to comfort him, his boyfriend is sometimes simply satisfied with the feel of his body against his own.

Sometimes Sebastian knows exactly what he has to do.

When one of Blaine’s theater friends passes away unexpectedly, he suspects that it’s going to hit his boyfriend hard. Someone who so often wears his heart on his sleeve, who feels his emotions so deeply—Sebastian knows it’s not going to be easy. What he doesn’t expect is Blaine standing in front of his closet, trying to figure out what to wear to her funeral and _sobbing._

He’s got his arms curled around himself so tightly, like he thinks that’ll help him not fall apart, his knuckles nearly white at the strength of it all. Sebastian sighs softly and drops his satchel from work, walking over to him.

“Come here,” He whispers, gently grabbing his elbow and disentangling his grip on himself.

Blaine turns instantly and hiccups as he makes a connection with his chest, fitting in a spot that feels like coming home. Sebastian closes his eyes, his chin resting on his head, trying to hold him tighter despite the sobs shaking his body.

“It’s not f- _fair_.” Blaine wails, fingers digging into the soft skin of his back, trying to physically ground himself in Sebastian’s presence.

Sebastian sighs gently and dips his chin, pressing his nose and lips into his curls, “I know. I know.” He peppers a series of kisses there, his hands working up and down Blaine’s spine and broad shoulders.

When Blaine eventually calms down, he’ll tilt his head and kiss directly under his chin and Sebastian will know that even though everything isn’t okay that he’s made him feel better. Even just for a little bit.

\--

Sebastian really enjoys finding time to go to the pool, especially on hot summer days like this one. The concrete is practically sizzling from heat; the image of an egg frying on contact keeps popping up in the back of his mind.

Or maybe he’s just hot from seeing Blaine in neon pink swim trunks, who knows. He smiles as he watches him walk over from the towel, his gaze tracing over his body. He’s never exactly been _skinny_ but that’s perfectly fine for Sebastian. He likes that Blaine’s got a small tummy, that his thighs are _bitable_ and the globes of his ass, well, he can’t get started on that in a public space.

He waves to him from the pool and swims a little towards the deep end as Blaine gets in. Both of them are decent swimmers so floating around has never been a problem. He wanders towards the eight to twelve feet section as a head of wet curls pops up above the surface.

“Do you wear those swim trunks to purposely tease me or what?”

Blaine laughs softly and swims over to him, Sebastian’s feet barely managing to touch the bottom of the pool. He knows his boyfriend has to tread water, “No, but I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

“I think the entire pool is enjoying them.” He licks his lips. “Don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“You mean when you dragged me into the bathrooms and peeled off my trunks—”

Sebastian interrupts him with a kiss, drawing him closer even though Blaine’s hands are insistent against his chest. “I’m going to end up drowning,” He lets out a breath that ripples the water, “I gotta concentrate on treading.”

“Nah, hold onto me.”

And that seems to be all the invitation Blaine needs, his hands slipping easily onto his shoulders as his legs wrap around his waist. Sebastian holds them up in the water, his arms encircling his frame and keeping him close.

His eyelashes are pretty like this, wet against his cheeks as he looks down, one of the only times Blaine will be a head taller than him. And Sebastian definitely likes when he has to _lean down_ to kiss him.

\--

Though sometimes, Blaine not being able to reach shit out of their tallest cabinets is also his favorite thing. Sebastian comes up behind him in the kitchen and rests his arm on the top of his head and it eventually slips down to his shoulders.

“What do you need?”

Blaine smacks his hand away, “I can get it, thanks.”

“You want a mug, a bowl, what?”

“I don’t need your help.” He pouts and Sebastian can tell he’s debating grabbing a chair to stand on.

He smirks, “Come on shortstack, what do you need?”

When Blaine crosses his arms over his chest and refuses to tell him, Sebastian just grins and grabs absolutely _everything_ from the top shelf, which includes: two mugs, a few nesting bowls, a toaster they don’t keep plugged in and a juicer.

“There you go.” He kisses his scrunched-up nose and Blaine pushes him away, despite a small smile pulling the edges of his mouth as he picks up a mug and fills it with coffee.


End file.
